


(All I Want) For Christmas

by TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Castiel in the Bunker, First Kiss, Fluff, Human Castiel, Human Castiel in the Bunker, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, POV Sam Winchester, Retired Hunter Dean, Retired Hunter Dean Winchester, Retired Hunter Sam Winchester, outside pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 02:51:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13425171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving/pseuds/TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving
Summary: Castiel is human - it's a good thing Dean's there.





	(All I Want) For Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Destiel_Giggity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destiel_Giggity/gifts).



> I know this isn't _exactly_ what you asked for, I hope you'll enjoy it anyway
> 
> Pinch hit for the Dean/Cas secret santa exchange
> 
> Comments, kudos and constructive critism welcome - I take title suggestions, too

It had all begun with an offhand comment from the former angel and ever since Sam had been unable to do anything than stare in wide eyed horror as his brother transformed into some kind of Stepford wife. He’d searched the bunker repeatedly for hex bags and unknown plants, had made coffee with holy water and sprouted _Christo_ left and right (Dean hadn’t even bothered turning to ask what was wrong with him at that); he’d made a Devil’s Trap under the couch, put a silver necklace on his plate one day and anything else that might explain the truly bizarre behavior. Dean might not be a stranger to cooking, cleaning and doing laundry - for all that they’d shared those duties more or less equally after Stanford, Dean had definitely done more than his share of those while growing up – but this was bordering on the wrong side of excessive.

**November**

The calendar loudly proclaims that winter’s here and the floor’s certainly cold enough beneath Sam’s bare feet to lend credibility to the statement as he leaves the warmth of his bed in the search of a caffeine injection. It’s far too early to be up – ever since they (mostly) retired from hunting Sam’s taken to sleep in whenever possible – so he lets his nose guide him, following the enticing smell of coffee wafting through the air.

He walks in on the common sight of Cas – recently parted from the last remnants of his grace, leaving him as (or possibly more, depending on who you’d ask) human as the Winchesters – his hands wrapped around the coffee mug in front of him the only thing about him that indicated he was awake, and Dean standing at the counter chopping vegetables for the omelets he’d make when the bacon was sufficiently charred.

Sam’s greeting of ‘good morning’ unsurprisingly goes unnoticed as he makes his way to the coffee machine, pouring himself a cup of the heavenly nectar before taking his usual seat on Cas’ left, letting the warm liquid, the smells and the conversation between his brother and the former angel wake him up.

”What do you mean you’ve never had pumpkin pie?” Dean’s voice is shrouded in disbelief as he stares at the man sitting at the kitchen table, sleepily squinting into a cup of coffee and looking three seconds from falling asleep right then and there.

”Dean,” he rasps out all gravel rough and sluggish; and considering the smite-y look on his face promising suffering and death to all not stopping that line of thought Sam can’t help but wonder how his brother has managed to survive as long as he had. It might’ve had something to do with the ‘profound bond’, he thinks, as his older brother ignores the unspoken warning, taking the mug right out of Cas’ hands and then orders him to get dressed as they have places to be.

Less than fifteen minutes later he hears Baby’s engine coming to life with a roar and then there is nothing but the sound Sam’s fingers make as they dance across the laptop’s keyboard.

~

Sam hardly notices at first. Dean and Cas have been staring into each other’s eyes for years now, have somehow learnt to navigate the world while gazing soulfully at the other – seriously, how is Dean even still alive Sam wonders as he clings to Baby’s seat and screams internally when she swerves a little too close to the oncoming traffic - so it's hardly _worth_ noticing when they start doing things together, too.  
At some point, though, he catches on and much like a ticking clock, once he’s aware of it it can’t be ignored.

He’ll go look for Dean in the garage and will trip over Cas’ legs as he sits against the wall listening to Dean yammering about the proper care of Baby or even the Lincoln; Dean’s proposal of getting rid of it had been met with a deadpan “I like it” and that had been the end of that discussion, even if Sam knew his brother well enough to know he’d like nothing better than to set the thing on fire.  
When he’s looking for Cas he’ll go outside where he for some unfathomable reason has decided to try his hand at beekeeping and at a safe distance Dean’s sitting in a ratty old lawn chair bundled up in layers upon layers to withstand the cold and with a beer in one hand and his phone in the other as is wanting to pretend he isn’t watching Cas with an absolutely besotted expression.  
There are the times Sam’ll find the two of them in the library, Cas studying some dusty old tome that has probably been hidden for the last few centuries and Dean quietly reading a well-loved Vonnegut novel. Then Dean puts down the book to go make dinner and Cas will follow a few minutes later, taking his seat at the kitchen table and watch him, a small smile curling his lips upwards.

In the evenings the three of them usually convene in the tv room, Sam taking the old winged armchair, Dean in one end of the couch and Cas in the other. Sam’s having a bet with himself over who’s going to make the first move and if it’ll happen before he chokes on the UST. There are times he just wants to get up and yell at them to get their heads out their asses but more than thirty years of living with Dean convinces him every time that it would be counterproductive to what he’d want to achieve.

~

Mid-month Dean gets home after being gone a few hours, throwing a plastic bag at both Sam and Cas, telling them to “go change” and he’ll be waiting for them outside.  
Curiously peering into the bag Sam’s met with dull greens and something blindingly orange and even while wondering what his crazy brother’s up to now he still dutifully changes into the hunting garb and goes outside, wordlessly taking the back seat of the Impala, having long since resigned to the fact that Cas has dibs on the passenger seat these days.

It’s only a short drive to a patch of trees and once the car’s stopped and the three of them have gotten out and Dean has retrieved shotguns from the trunk Sam’s rolling his eyes: Dean wants them to go turkey hunting, when there are perfectly good turkeys to be bought at the store. He’s about to say something when he notices Cas and his brother are – again – lost in each other’s eyes and with a sigh he makes his way as quietly as possible in between the trees.

They return to the bunker with red cheeks, running noses and one dead turkey that Dean thankfully takes from Sam to do whatever you’re supposed to do with a dead bird you intend to eat. Cas is apparently more squeamish than Sam would’ve assumed and rather than following Dean he walks with Sam back inside the bunker, into the kitchen where the former angel proceeds to make hot cocoa and sandwiches; which is probably a good idea considering it’s getting kind of late and they didn’t have dinner before leaving in the first place.

The turkey – and the sheer quantity of fixings Dean had made – lasts them for longer than either of them care to think about.

**December**

The first night of the last month of the year brings with it a significant drop in temperature and by the time the bunker’s inhabitants have gotten out of their beds and look out the windows they’re met with snow covered world. Sam immediately turns on his heel mentally going through his closet hoping he has enough clothes for the weather. Behind him he can hear Dean’s and Cas’ voices, his brother probably trying to convince the former angel to join them outside for the inevitable snowball fight.

Five minutes later they’re all outside and six minutes later they’re throwing snow left and right trying to beat the others into submission. It all comes to an end when Cas and Dean team up against Sam, the snow cold against his back where they shoved it down his collar. He can’t be too angry though, there’s a light in his brother’s eyes he hasn’t seen for so long the gleam mirrored in Cas’ and with a smirk and a “bitch” thrown over his shoulder for good measure Sam heads back inside to change out of his wet clothes, leaving the two men to their own devices.

A hot shower and a change of clothes later Sam decides to make something warm to drink for the three of them, figuring the other two are probably even colder than he was before his shower. Standing in the kitchen and looking out the window he can’t help the smile forming on his face as he watches his big brother, a grown ass man, lying on the ground making snow angels, Cas at a proper distance away from him making one, too.  
As he watches the two men stop moving, their arms still spread and tips of their fingers seemingly close enough to touch. It’s not until he can hear the milk hissing where it’s spilled onto the stove that he turns away from the sight; he graciously doesn’t mention it when he calls them back inside nor does he mention the way they seem to gravitate closer than they usually do.

~

It’s no more than a few days later Sam gets home from grocery shopping only to find what looks like a kindergarten’s arts and craft class has exploded all over the bunker. It’s been a long time since anything bad has happened but Sam still draws the gun he’s carrying out of habit and silently makes his way towards the common room. Nothing could’ve prepared him from Dean and Cas sitting side by side at a table, stacks of glossy paper, cardboard, wrapping paper, glue, glitter and a million other things surrounding them. Cas holding out a cornet for closer inspection and Dean returning the favor with a paper star, both anxiously awaiting the approval of the other.

For a second it looks as if this is it as they unconsciously lean closer to each other until they’re so close they’re practically breathing the same air, and Sam is holding his breath in anticipation afraid that even the tiniest sound will break whatever spell they seem to be under. There’s no telling what does it but the instant before they connect they both pull back, Cas looking as stoic as ever and Dean running a nervous hand through his hair, the other taking hold of the cornet.

”This is really good, Cas,” he exclaims and if Sam hadn’t been keeping as close watch as he does he’d’ve missed the shadow of the pleased smile gracing his lips, though it’s impossible not to hear the warmth in his voice when he answers.

”Thank you, Dean. The star is quite lovely, too.”

His brother’s beaming smile has Sam mentally facepalming while groaning to himself in despair. As the spell seems to have been broken though, he carefully steps backwards and when out of view for the two idiots he goes to unpack the groceries.  
By the time he’s done the chaos has been wrangled into some semblance of order, Cas draping strings of light around the curtain rod while Dean’s directing him from where he stands, close enough to try and catch Cas should the man fall. Sam doesn’t even bother hiding his smile as he sits down with his laptop and continues reading where he left off that morning.

~

The tree is Cas’ idea. Sam’s not entirely sure _why_ he wants a real tree, but he’s barely uttered the want for one before Dean is rummaging through the bunker looking for an axe that is in no way, shape or form dangerous to use for the rather simple task of cutting down a small tree.

They take the Lincoln, just because Dean doesn’t want to be caught dead in the monstrosity (his words) he’s even less eager getting sap and pine needles all over his precious Baby; Sam still gets the backseat though, which is a pity as it seems to be smaller than the Impala’s.  
It’s a short drive to the place that sells Christmas trees and they’re soon off in the search for the perfect one.

Sam remembers Christmases growing up, remembers a shabby tree shaped lump Dean had most likely stolen or gotten from a dumpster somewhere but never before have they had an actual live Christmas tree, and it’s a little overwhelming trying to decide which one they should pick. Of course Dean has no such reservations and is ready to chop down the first one they lay eyes on. Cas’ hand on his arm stops him and the shake of his head stop whatever protest he may have thought to speak as he just follows the former angel’s steps when he starts walking.

Of course they can’t keep walking forever and Cas deviates from the path from time to time to look closer at a tree here and another there. A few times he keeps looking from a particular tree to Sam as if _Sam_ somehow has an opinion on the tree picking process. Neither Winchester do but then again Cas never asks them for one, just keeps going, the only sounds the wind and other people out looking for a tree.  
And then he stops, abruptly enough both Dean and Sam almost collide with him though before either of them can complain he’s running and then wrapped around a tree standing 10-15 feet into the air. He turns, a gummy smile aimed at them as he happily declares.

”This one.”

With a grunt Dean gets to work, the sound of the axe against the trunk of the tree filling the air mixing with the creaking of the tree as the trunk separates from the stump. Together they carry it back to the entrance where they pay and net it before placing it on the roof of Cas’ car and driving back home to the bunker.

~

Sam decides to try his luck and starts leaving little hints that with all the decorations and lights and tree maybe they should go all out on the whole Christmas feast thing; which basically means he’s trying to convince Dean to cook yet another spread of too much food. There’s no doubt his brother’s on to him but somehow Cas chimes in, saying that since it’s his first Christmas as a human it would be nice to experience everything humans take for granted. None of them seem interested in pointing out that neither Dean nor Sam have experienced that – they had tried when they were kids, but seeing as they were just that there had only been so much they could do – and before long there are long lists of items absolutely necessary to cook Christmas dinner.

Sam gets volunteered and Cas is sent with him _”to do the heavy lifting”_ Dean says with a wink, but it’s years too late if he thinks he can fool his own brother so Sam takes the car ride to explain to Cas that Dean just wants a little peace and quiet while getting the overview of everything he needs in the kitchen and where he put it last he used it.

Shopping with Cas turns out to be an experience that Sam could’ve gone without but they get everything on the lists and get out of there without being told never to come back again so Sam decides to call it a win and risk getting on the wrong end of Dean’s anger when he refuses to do it again. If Dean thinks Cas makes for good shopping company then he’s clearly even more disgustingly in love than Sam already thought he was.

When they get back and everything has been put away to Dean’s satisfaction, Sam does what any other sane person would do: He flees to his room where he tries to be as quiet as possible so as not to draw attention to himself. There may or may not be a little nap involved before he gets tired of looking at the same four walls and he makes his way back to the kitchen, figuring that by now Dean knows what he wants to do and is less likely to rip his brother’s head off for asking stupid questions – such as if he need a hand.

Turns out Dean has all the extra hands he needs. Cas is standing at the sink, Dean standing behind him his arms around him and his hands on Cas’, one holding a potato and the other a peeler as they peel it together. Once they’re done with the potatoes the move on to the bird, large hands carefully guiding equally large hands as they clean and stuff and sew it up, rub it with salt and carefully putting it in the oven.  
Then it’s the vegetables and somehow Sam loses a few hours sitting at the kitchen table watching his brother teach a former angel how to cook food that even Sam didn’t know he could make. Soon the smell of the bird wafts through the air startling a grumble from his stomach which he ignores in favor of watching the two men carefully moving around the space as one, touching from head to toe in a way that shouldn’t leave them room for what they’re doing, but somehow they make it work.

They seem blind and deaf to anything outside the bubble they’re in and it’s hardly a surprise when Dean takes half a step back and Cas puts the knife down turning towards him, an expectant raise of his eyebrow. A short second of hesitation and then Dean leans forward, Cas meeting him halfway as their lips finally connects in a kiss more than half a decade in the making.

The food had probably been better warm but seeing the blissed out expressions on his brother’s and friend’s faces are even better.

**~end~**


End file.
